the White ButtonDown
by Blondie10
Summary: 'one more job' for Midii leads her to all of the pilots and ensnares her in a web of deception... 3xMU
1. Default Chapter

No longer would she hide. No longer would she be taken advantage of or hurt. No longer would she end up in a military hospital. That was over. The woman walked the streets of Germany, an outsider. On the old cobbled paths she heard her heels' snaps, the only sound save the wind. Midii Une was on a mission. Only she was not serving as a spy. No longer. She was different now. The crucifix no longer bobbed at her throat, and her hair was no longer pale. She had kept the curls. Only now they were darker, deeper in hue. As she checked her watch and realized she was late, her bag she transferred to the opposite shoulder. Walking faster, Midii struggled to pull up her hair. The cold air had made it stiff, presenting the task of a simple bun difficult. The cobblestones turned to concrete abruptly, causing her to double over. Looking up, she saw her destination. The cathedral-like building towered into the night sky, each of the seemingly thousands of windows lit by candlelight. The parchment placed in front of the tapers gave off a warm glow, but Midii knew better. This was a place of secrets, some darker than others.  
  
Like him. Heero Yuy glided past security. A tip had told him earlier that a former alliance spy, among other important political figures. Apparently, ballet was a hot commodity on the superpowers' entertainment list. There was something about the atmosphere here - uninviting, cold.he was welcome.  
  
Bright lights appeared before her, and she made out through the darkness a limousine. This is a charity, she thought. Probably some rich landowner. But as the door opened she hurried to the steps to see who would retreat from its luxury. A tall, large man stepped out. I know him, she thought. Recognition struck her like a brick. He was a Prime Minister. Blair was his name. She had done a job six months ago involving his business partners. He might recognize her as well. Determined to be on time and fearful of a confrontation, Midii removed her shoes and bolted through a side door. The ground outside - and the marble floor inside - both were unimaginably cold. After two minutes of sprinting she reached the dancers' room. The room was dry and hot, stuffy. Without any regard she stripped bare in a curtained cubicle and got halfway into costume. Dropping her bag and taking her slippers and dancer ID, she went to the stage entrance. Sitting at the top of the narrow flight of stairs, she brushed aside the velvet curtain and watched the audience as she slipped on her toe shoes. Flexing her toes, she saw the sea of faces seated before the stage. For the first time she was uneasy. As she heard the approach of the other dancers she moved away from the stairwell. Now she could wait. Her performance was to be the last of the night.  
  
He could wait. Heero could wait until after the ballet to find the spy. He was unconcerned. The preventors weren't very busy lately. Another job would be greatly appreciated. Work gave him an escape - from people associated with him and more than anything else, Relena Peacecraft. She was still pursuing him relentlessly. Watching the graceful figures dance beneath him, he wondered how they could keep going - spinning, spinning, spinning.  
  
The dancers seemed to float across the stage. Midii watched from the wings as the almost ethereal figures gave the performance of their lives. Sure, it was beautiful, but it was a spectator art. Almost bored with the routine and completely disinterested with the other dancers, Midii searched the crowd for familiar faces. Unsuccessful, the small figure darted to one of the empty balconies. Looking directly ahead, she would face another balcony. She did so and saw something she had not expected. A person. He looked to be the same age as she - nineteen - but something in his eyes made him look much older. Slim, well built, definitely a soldier. She couldn't make out his face, but a mop of dark brown hair sat upon his head. He looked oddly familiar. He was looking down on the ballerinas, and she studied his presence until he looked up. She turned on her heel and left immediately.  
  
He wondered why she was up in the wings. A solitary dancer - or at least she could play the part. Could she be.no. She didn't fit the description. Her hair was too dark. But she wasn't bad to look at. Pretty tall, slender, blonde-ish, pretty. Very pretty. She certainly looked like a ballet dancer. He watched as she disappeared into the expanse of burgundy velvet curtain. What could she be doing? He wondered. A curtain fell as he turned and calculated her position and when he would meet up with her. Heero waited for a moment before cocking his gun and following her.  
  
.But she didn't wear a tutu. She was clothed in a fitted knee-length white chiffon dress with drop sleeves and deep side slits. And the shoes. They had been left in a parking lot in France when Midii had found another option to being an agent. Ballet had been an escape. A chance to start a new life. The instructor had said Midii (or rather Marie) had been born for it. Built for it. Was I meant to be a spy? A double agent? She whispered, memories of her life flashing in her mind. No longer was she Colonel Une, Agent Une, Lady Une.she was Midii. The petite, graceful girl with a mysterious face. No one asked questions.  
  
Heero followed as she tiptoed down the marble hallway. In the dim candle- lit hall, she looked strange.ethereal.. Now he had gotten excited about having to work overtime. He waked a safe fifteen feet behind her, silently entering her world. They came to the dancer's suite - where the dancers prepared for the show. Mirrors and porcelain counters covered two walls of the square room, another was occupied by ancient plush chairs, and the last was covered by mirrors and a bar. Flowers, boxes of candy, and street clothes littered all of the horizontal surfaces. Midii reached for a box of opened chocolates and took a truffle. Suddenly she turned on her heel.  
  
Once again she was staring down the barrel of a gun. It was not too strange to her.the steel barrel pointed in her face. She recognized the gunman as the one that had been in the wings. Waiting for anything - the shot, a word slipped from his mouth - anything. But nothing happened.  
  
"Reach for a gun and I send a slug through your skull" He regretted being that coarse. The girl didn't move a muscle, and he slowly put down his gun. "Are you Midii Une?" he inquired emotionlessly. "No." she replied in a startlingly clear voice. An uncomfortable silence settled in the stifling hot room. After a while, without a word she breezed past him and headed backstage. He raised his gun again and followed her. "I have to be on stage soon." She said as she picked up her pace.  
  
A trail of dancers met her twenty feet from the stage entrance. She used the sea of pink satin and tulle to her advantage, conveniently hidden from sight. Midii rushed down the narrow flight of stairs, her only thought being to use the stage to her advantage. As she rounded the last corner and pulled her ID card, one of the technicians took her arm. "Marie! You're late!" he hissed. One last check with the director, sound technician, and curtain master, and she stood in the first leg. As the curtain rose, light danced over the polished wooden floor and she heard the whistle, signaling her entrance. With a final sigh, she went en Pointe and took the first step.  
  
He watched from the batten of the stage. A birds-eye view didn't give Heero the best view, but he saw every move she made. His eye scanned the stage for an exit she might use; he knew she was too smart to use the stairs again. All of the people involved in the delivery of the event had identification, and there was no way he could get backstage and avoid security. There was one more option. Heero dropped the jacket he wore and took out the plastic police badge from the inside breast pocket. He had picked it up at a toy store; he didn't think he would need it. He rolled up his sleeves and took the badge and gun as he jumped down to the green room.  
  
As she polished off the final pirouette, the deafening sound of applause met her ears. She moved forward a few inches to avoid the curtain, which was rapidly closing. Roses met her feet and as she reached for one, a technician screamed her name. She curtsied and followed the voice.  
  
She had walked right into his trap. He moved forward with the plastic handcuffs as she asked the crew worker why she had been summoned. "Midii Une." she turned at her real name, "you are under arrest." * For two hours neither said a word. She rode in the back, picking at the simple corrugated plastic handcuffs. She had been allowed to change into street clothes; she now wore jeans and a crisp white button down. As the silver GT carrying Heero and her crossed a bridge, she looked for an escape. Then she had the perfect idea.  
  
He called the office. Une was in custody and on the way to lockdown. His job was over.  
  
As the car hit the soft dirt road, Midii popped the headrest of the passenger's seat up, leaving a four-inch window. Making sure that Heero would not see her; her slender wrists reached through and grabbed the steering wheel. In a fraction of a second, she had pulled the car into the river. She knew what would happen.  
  
He hadn't seen it happen. As soon as they had crossed the bridge, the spy had planted them in the river. Reacting speedily, he unbuckled his seatbelt, took his laptop, and opened both of their doors. He tread water and tried to convince her to get out of the car. "Une! Get out of the car!" She didn't blink as the water rose to her knees. "Now!" "No, I don't want to!" she yelled childishly. Left with no other choice, he hooked his elbow around her waist and dragged her from the Ford. She fought him off the three feet to the shore, and when she was back on dry ground she reached for his gun. "I don't think so."  
  
Freezing, she didn't eye the gun but the laptop. It was all she could do to shoot him in the gut, or whatever would work. She didn't expect him to cut her loose. What the Hell are you doing?" he yelled. "You just sunk my company car!" She laughed, a laugh he would have expected from.someone else. "Calm down. You look good wet." She threw a punch skillfully, and he caught it a fraction of an inch from his face. Heero knocked her down. Holding her wrist, he looked for the handcuffs again, for some insane reason. She took the opportunity. Taking the gun, she shot him in the shoulder. The pain was too much even for the Perfect Soldier. She took the gun and the computer and ran. * She was warm now. Ten miles from the bridge, she had found a Motel 6. She had paid $16. By tomorrow, she would have a quarter-million. She had gotten a job. One last job - to get Apollo from the five gundam pilots. Apollo. A virus that would reveal the EU's [1] military and defense secrets. It would infiltrate the CIA. And destroy every business computer terminal in Europe. She had information of three of the five gundam pilots, who was the only tip that her boss had. Besides Zechs Marquis. He would go first.  
  
AN: [EU: European Union] 


	2. Chapter 2

He strode in as expected. Midii watched as her target grabbed a corner seat. From behind the bar she took a brandy glass and leant over her side of the marble bar, making sure she was showing her bra from beneath the button-down shirt from the day before. "Red Sangria. You're showing," he said dryly, seemingly disinterested. "The way I figure, I get more tips,' she said with a sing-song voice. As she gave him his drink, she smiled knowingly. No one would see that she had spiked it.  
  
The drink was good, better than usual. This girl was new. And hot. He wouldn't deny he was interested in her. The pub was almost empty, so she took a glass of cognac and started a conversation. " Well, you, sir, are the most recognized of anyone I've seen." "You obviously haven't been here very long." "I started Tuesday," she lied. "You a regular?' she asked, taking a long draught from her glass. "I guess so.you don't look German. Where are you from?" "Marseilles." "What's it like there?" "Like most of France. We hosted the Olympics once. And we are the number one producer of sugar beets." He chuckled. "So, you know who I am, who are you?" "Desiree`." She stroked her neck and looked at his empty glass. "Let me fill you up," she said as she reached for the Jack Daniels. "Desiree`" he repeated. * Midii crept from the bedroom. Taking her jacket and purse, she finished buttoning her shirt. Walking down the stairs to the kitchen, she tripped over her bra. "Forgot about that." she whispered to herself. As she raided the refrigerator, she thought about the night's events. Once drunk enough, he didn't say no to much. He had sung like a canary. She had gotten all the information she needed from his computer, mainly about Quatre Winner, the next target. Once you got past the doors, the Marquis Estate was pretty lax on security. A drunk Zechs Marquis had given her all his passwords, to begin with. As she tiptoed towards the door she saw the half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels, its contents trickling onto the white carpet. "Let him take care of it." And with that she was gone. * This time in a charcoal-gray business suit, Midii walked down the sterile- looking hall. Hair up, professional-looking makeup, and the suit changed her completely. She took a look in the mirror, repeating a mini conversation. "Who are you?" "I am Adrienne Lord." Approaching the end of the hallway, she took a deep breath and knocked on the large, mahogany door. "Come in." She opened the door to find the man that, in the space of twenty-four hours, she was to sleep with and shoot. She had never been more surprised in her life. This was no soldier. Before her stood a fragile, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, smiling.boy. She would not say he was a day older than seventeen. For a moment she thought she had the wrong person, that this was not the 04 pilot. But there was no mistake. "Tea?" he offered. She was shocked. But then she regained her character and smiled. "No, no thank you," she said sweetly and with a southern accent. "This is obviously your first time to Arabia," he said knowingly. "To Eurasia, actually. I never left the states before this." "So, you are interested in the oil trade." "Well sir, being raised in Texas will do that." * He stared at her for a long time. She played with the rim of her glass as she recalled her father's involvement with the oil capital of America. He almost didn't believe it. The way that her neck curved.. "Is the Winner Estate oil? I could swear it was." "The L4 colony cluster, actually," he replied. She nodded in agreement before resting her chin on the back of her hand again. Quatre was completely enamored with the charming southern belle. Her long, strawberry- blonde curls swirled slightly in the wind. She had taken down her hair when they had arrived at the little bistro, which was an excuse. He was tired of business and eager to see more of her. "Now I know you must be bored out of your mind by now.I do apologize.so, what's it like, growing up with that many people under one roof?"  
  
"Well, most of them were out of the house by the time I really cared." he skated all of her questions - he had heard enough about himself. " I would never know. I had - have three brothers." "How old," he inquired. "Well, Terry must be ten, Andrew is fifteen, and Brandon is.twenty-one." Midii said, turning the French pronunciation to common-man's. "And you?" "I'm nineteen." "What a coincidence." She looked around. Everyone watched him, obviously recognizing the youngest multi-billionaire on the Continent. An idea sprang to her mind. She could make her move. "Mr. Winner," she whispered, placing her hand on his. "Quatre," he insisted "We have an audience." "Oh.do you want to.go somewhere?" * "This is going to be so easy," she thought. She had dressed down in Quatre's apartments - wearing now the infamous white button-down shirt and shorts, silently congratulating herself for wearing a black bra. He was in the other room, fixing iced tea. After once-over-ing herself, she reentered the living room/kitchen. "Nice place you got yourself here," she said from the living room. "Thanks," he relied, handing her a drink. She smiled, shifting from one hip to another. 'Oh," he said, seeing this, took her hand and led her to the couch. She sat with her legs draped over his, laying out completely. He kept to her hand. She leaned in and kissed him. Just when she was ready to go further. "I really, really like you." "Not this!" her mind screamed. "Me too," she said, trying to save the moment. She needed to get him to his weakest, most vulnerable state, and it wasn't working. Diversion! Maybe that would work.  
  
'It's so gorgeous here" she remarked, keeping a half smile on her face. She looked out the wall-to-wall windows at the sunset. He nodded, staring at her, waiting, waiting, waiting for something. " I've never seen such a beautiful sunset! How can you stand to leave this place for." "Space?" he finished for her. Her grin got even bigger. Finally he couldn't resist. He leaned over her and returned the kiss. She locked her arms around his neck and pulled herself onto his lap. "I.love you." she breathed. She let her left hand fall and deftly started unbuttoning his shirt. He tried to do the same but fumbled.  
  
Midii pressed into his chest further and stood, leading him to the bedroom. The king-sized bed was unmade and the curtains drawn. They broke away for a moment as she raised the blinds slightly. "It's a mess." That's fine, she said, pushing him onto the bed. He looked at her curiously, then panicked. "Don't worry," she said, dropping the shirt. "I'll steer you around the curves." 


	3. Chapter 3

In the cold, dark night, she searched blindly for her underwear. She had found her pants, along with her gun, draped neatly over a chair in Quatre's room. She couldn't believe he hadn't found it. And she wore the Oxford. Now came the hard part. She had to kill him. Midii walked to the other side of the bed and leaned over him. She tenderly ran a hand up his chest. He was so warm. He was gentle. He was so.kind.and.everything she admired. Oh well. She pulled the gun and pointed at his head. She pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. The gun dropped from her hand and she doubled over, trying to focus. She kicked the gun under the bed and started sobbing.  
  
It woke him. It was strange to Quatre, knowing she was right next to him, crying, and he didn't know why. He sat up. "Adrienne? Come here." He felt her weight transfer to the mattress before she lay on to of him. He pulled the duvet over her and held her. "I have to go, she whispered. "No you don't." he said, shifting as he pulled her lacy bra from underneath the sheets. "I'm sorry.I really do. I'll leave my number. Good-bye." She left, taking her bra from him. "Adrienne," he said, "I love you." "Me too," she said, regretting lying so much to him.  
  
She collected her clothes and fully dressed, then took the full disc from Quatre's computer. Midii walked to the kitchen and wrote down a number and her alias. It was the ballet studio's number. In Germany. * She opened the disc back at the Arabian hotel. She hadn't slept in three days, and she was beginning to feel it. Coffee had begun to be her escape from the rest of the world. The military information was in Arabic, so she ran it through a translator, watching the sun rise. It really was pretty. A soft beep from Heero's purloined laptop notified her that it was in English. She scanned over statistics.  
  
6'4" 140 red green n/a n/a n/a London, England L3^ )#T.?/@.s*  
  
The last line did not decode. A driver's license picture loaded. She couldn't believe whose face appeared on the 17" screen. She reached for her throat to realize the golden crucifix was not there. The emotionless face of Trowa Barton stared back at her from the computer screen. Midii dropped the cup of coffee. She was to extract information on the next pilot from the first man she ever loved. She had betrayed him, come back to him, left him, and broken trust with him. An endless circular pattern that she had convinced herself would only end if she left for good.  
  
He was in Great Britain, but would leave for the L1 colony cluster in two days. She was to follow him. She couldn't fail. She needed the money. It was all about the money. It was just business. * She swung the bottle back and forth. The amber liquid sloshed back and forth like little waves of alcohol with the bottle's movement. It was almost empty. As she walked down the street, she had one thought. Trowa "Trowa.Tro-wa.Trowa." she sang to herself. Taking another draught of the brandy, she looked at the sky and kept walking. It was dark and cold and nasty. She needed to be on a flight to space in twelve hours. She didn't care. Midii strode up to a familiar building and rang the doorbell. Quatre appeared. * Her thoughts swam. She didn't know where she was or why. She checked the clock. Three hours and counting. Looking up, she realized she was back at Quatre's apartment. Directly in front of the bed hung her wool skirt and blue pinstripe oxford shirt on a drying rack. Beside her on the bedside table was a candle. She watched the flickering little light, transfixed. She turned back onto her side and felt familiar arms wrap around her. "Are you okay?" Quatre asked groggily. "Oh God.I didn't come to him, did I?" "You were drunk as hell." "My head." "Next time think before getting hammered. You've got a thing for oxford shirts or what?" She turned to face him and buried her head in his chest. "I don't know what to say.' "Then don't." "I have to get on a shuttle in three hours." "I'll take you." Silence reined. "I missed you," he said. Suddenly she realized what she had done. He was the one factor in her way. This guy that thought he loved her, he couldn't be caught up with him. Especially because Trowa knew her true identity and Quatre didn't. It would all fall apart if they saw each other.and her. Midii looked up at him and smiled. This character was easy to play with, easy to turn around. But if anything happened with him in the next three hours she would have to face the greatest evil possible - she could get stuck in a lie. "You hungry?" he asked. She nodded. He kissed her.  
  
"Oh no.a romantic."  
  
He couldn't believe she had come back. He had thought when she left it was over. But she had come back, completely plastered, but she was back anyway. As he hunted for something in the fridge, Quatre watched her get up and sit on the edge of the bed, dangling her legs over the side. He had known this woman for two days and already he was.  
  
Insane. This was insane. There was no way she could do this. She needed to get out of this situation. Silently, Midii watched him reheat leftovers for her. 


	4. Chapter 4

It was ironic that this hotel was named 'Beautiful View'. The only view it offered was that of the Gallant Central Mall. As Midii triumphantly entered Trowa's room she was met with a familiar sight. A small duffel bag, cell phone charger, laptop and unmade bed were the only signs that the room had been even slightly touched. Midii set to work on the bed. Mariana, a short Guatemalan woman, had speedily taught her how to properly do this just an hour before. As she finished by replaced the pillows, the door opened. "I'm sorry.your room is supposed to be cleaned at twelve," she yelled. "No problem," came the reply as Trowa entered the room. "Well, I'm done already. Have a nice day," she said as calmly as she could muster, taking an armful of linens as she left.  
  
He caught her by the arm. "Sir." She refused to make eye contact. "So now you're trying stealthy, are you Midii?" She stopped resisting and dropped the bedclothes. She looked straight ahead as she spoke. "Trowa.I." "Why are you here?" he asked. She really did play this part well. In the little blue dress and sandals, she actually looked as ridiculous as all the other maids that were always running around without a word. So many questions sprang to mind. She wouldn't answer a single one of them. "It's been a while," she finally said. Furious, she sat down on the bed and sighed. He was tempted to laugh. He always loved how Midii got so mad so quietly.  
  
Already she had formed a plan. Still seemingly fuming, she looked up at him. Midii could feel his eyes boring into her. She stared at her feet and pulled her hair out of the insanely high bun. She felt Trowa sit down next to her. The two sat in silence for a very long time. * Questioning her ties to Winner and Marquis would not be easy. Heero Yuy sat in the Preventors main office in Russia, scanning over data compiled over the past three days: a pub owner hiring a girl that fit Midii's description, a picture of Zechs Marquis running a red light with a girl in the passenger seat of his Benz, a swarm of testimonies saying that Winner and Une having lunch together. Nothing really tied the two except the Eve Wars and mobile suits. Une was a spy; there was no doubt that she was on a job. Now he had to figure out what she was doing. This was going to take a while. And more coffee. * Trowa sat in the silent, sterile room. After ordering room service, Midii had agreed to stay. She walked out of the bathroom wearing jeans and a crisp pinstripe button-down. This was the Midii he remembered. Stunning. She sat down at the small desk and started on a piece of roasted chicken. He watched, ignoring the wealth of food set before him. "Well, are you going to eat or not?" she asked, delicately licking her fingers. "Not hungry." "You're the one who suggested we get food." "Okay. Hand me some of those," he said, motioning at the wings. She pushed the plate across the table. He couldn't bare it any longer. "Why were you with Quatre.at the airport?" She looked at him curiously. "Who?" "Damn, Midii.don't do this. I know you're on a job."  
  
"I was." she looked him straight in the eye. "Looking for some information." "Did you get it?'' "Winner is an airtight confidant. There was no way he would tell me anything" There. She hadn't lied at all. Just.kept some of the truth to her. She rose, catching the bottom button and tearing it from her shirt. "Damn. Does this hotel give you the little needle and thread things?" He pointed to the bedside table, stunned. When she had stood up, for a fleeting second he had seen her stomach. On it was a patch. Midii didn't smoke - She was wearing a contraceptive patch. He couldn't banish the thought - she was sleeping with someone else. He was jealous, and he had to keep it to himself. Even though they weren't always together, she was the only one. He prayed he wasn't red in the face. She shoved the repair kit into her back pocket as if she cared. Turning around, she decided to stop wasting time. "Trowa, what can you tell me about Apollo?" 


	5. Chapter 5

Heero smiled. She was getting ever closer. After two hours of poring over the information, he had come to the startlingly clear answer - it was all a setup. Someone had sent her in a scandalous path- ending at Heero. Someone who knew had known that his laptop was stolen and his intentions to get her into an eight by ten. Someone in the same office as he. * "I don't know anything. I swear to you Midii." "Well then why in Hell am I running around with the Gundam pilots to try to find it?" she fumed, arms askew and pacing across the floor. "Who gave you the job?" "I don't know! He was an anonymous - a rich one at that. A quarter-mil in a week." "Is anyone after you?" "I got picked up by a cop four days ago.but that was in Berlin." "It doesn't matter. You probably got attention from a Preventor. They don't go down easy. Believe me - I'm one of them." Midii sat down and covered her face, then looked up at Trowa. "Can I use your computer?" she asked. No name. No statistics. No hint to the identity of the next target. Just an address, the address that could determine so much. And it might cost her life. Midii wanted to fly solo. She had taken an encrypted disc buried in the hard drive of Trowa's computer. And she had gone back to her own hotel, alone. Now she was ready. This was the last job- for now. Once again she was reminded of the e-mail she had gotten on the shuttle. 'Whatever intrigue you are in will result in your death.' Looking back, she wondered why she had been so intimidated. She was obviously dealing with an amateur. She stood before the mirror, hoping that the double sidearms wouldn't show. She smoothed the now red curls back, admiring the new look. Once again she played the 'spy game', playing with an American accent. "Who are you?" "I am. Estee.Estee Lauren," she said, combining the two fragrance gurus. "What do you do?" "I am a lawyer for Scott, Scott and McCormick." * She approached the stone building at quarter-till ten. Striding freely up to the enormous office building, Midii tried not to think about what waited for her in the building. Leaves stirred around her slender ankles. She took the small, worn paper from her pocket and checked the address, sighing and perfecting her accent. Her character as perfect "It's all about playing the part." Then she stopped in her tracks. The side of the building read PREVENTORS faction 7. This could go two ways - one ended with handcuffs, the other - could possibly end in handcuffs as well. But more pleasant. This was the defining moment. She walked to the front desk and handed the receptionist the address. "Umm.I was given this address.but I didn't get anything else. Can you help me?" she asked in a saccharin-sweet voice. The receptionist looked over it carefully. "Oh yeah.that's Yuy's hand alright. He thinks he can leave whenever he wants - I see a lot of notes from him to his sup." "Yuy?" "Mmm-hmm! Heero Yuy, in 306. Would you like me to tell him you're here?" "No. I'd rather surprise him." She had given the performance of her life. Perfect. The girl on the phone hadn't suspected for a moment. Now she had to find out who the person was who was pretending to be Heero Yuy. She walked to the third floor and came to room 306. She opened the door without knocking. Before she turned white as a sheet. "You've been a very bad girl, Miss Une." * Heero almost laughed at his own genius. A shocked Midii Une, with red hair and glasses, stood before him. She repeatedly opened and closed her mouth but remained speechless. He didn't know what to do as she just stood there, still gripping the doorknob and the wall, oblivious to the fact that she had lost a shoe. So then he got up and walked to her.  
  
She was tempted to reach for her gun. Yuy stared her down. Neither one breathed. He reached out and pulled off her glasses. "Now I know you don't really wear these," he said, crushing the lenses in his fist. He picked up a file folder from his desk without leaving her eyes. She tried to see what illicit information the file kept. He then pulled out a picture, one of Trowa and her. "This is your dossier, Midii, and this is only after AC 195. There's no telling as to how much we have on the iron fist in the velvet glove, as you are referred to in the ESUN, or as we lovingly call you, the Bitch-Who- Refuses-to-Die. Now you and I are going to have a long talk about your.career." Maybe fatigue would wear her down. Nothing else would. All she gave was dead-end answers and fake references. Heero was about to try to use his gun to get something more constructive than name, rank, badge, and organization. Instead he posed a better question. "Miss Une, what is your involvement with Trowa Barton?" "Midii Jeanette Une, Colonel, 00396-4303, New Earth Alliance." "Miss Une." "Why are you.why are you so brazen to get me behind bars?" Her hand, out of his sight, touched the butt of her sidearm. "I ask you again, what are you doing running around with Barton?" "I was aware that Trowa Barton died several years ago. If I'm not mistaken, Barton was the brother of the also dead Lea Barton, mistress to Treize Khushrenada." "You know very well that I'm not speaking of that Trowa. This is the pilot of the HeavyArms gundam. Model 03."  
  
Midii half smiled as she leaned in. Heero Yuy looked extremely uncomfortable as she played with a loose strand of hair. She sat in deep thought a moment before leaning back, satisfied. "Mm-hmm. I did him for a job one time." "He's dead?" "No. Just really mad at himself for leaving his computer out in the open." Silence reigned. Finally she spoke. " Do you know what this is?" "Define this." "This is entrapment! That file is bull. I can walk out of this office and start a new day tomorrow!" "In a cell, maybe. You could try - leaving. But I'm the one with the gun in this situation."  
  
She also had a gun, two of them, actually. And already she was forming a plan - of how to get out. She couldn't believe it was all a fake. That she had gone back to Trowa for no reason. They were probably trying to get them both killed. But apparently - this Heero Yuy knew him - and that was when Midii recognized him. He was the one who had self-detonated the Zero prototype so many years ago.Trowa had told her about it. Her thoughts were interrupted by his voice. "So, Miss Une, what do you propose we do with you?" "I don't know, Mr. Yuy. What shall we do?" she asked mockingly. She heard a gun clip and immediately pulled both her guns.  
  
He was just cocking it when he stared down the barrel of a pair of .38's. No longer was this potential problem. This was a full-blown incident.  
  
Midii stood and walked around the oak desk, never moving her finger from either trigger. Now she had the upper hand; Yuy may have been good, but there wasn't a doubt in her mind she was better. The heavy breathing subsided. She pushed his chair back from the desk and slid onto the desk in front of him, never lowering the guns. "Now you're going to tell me everything you know about the people who are after us." She said. "Us?" "Me and the people I'm involved with," she spat, annoyed. "Involved?" he asked, obviously clueless. She stared at him. "You really have no idea about this job, do you?" "I was just supposed to get you to lockdown." Suddenly her beeper went off. "I have to make a call." * "Well?" Heero asked. He stared at her. She had made a very hushed, short call to someone and then buried her face in her hands. At his question she looked up, her ocean-colored eyes filling with tears. She set her jaw and stopped crying, sitting back. "I may have just caused the death of the first target of this operation." He looked at her strangely before she continued. "Marquis.was shot." "Zechs Marquis?" he asked. She nodded in agreement. "Someone followed him to his car and shot him. He's in the ICU, but there's no word on his condition." "Do you want to." "No. But I need to go to - I need to do something." "I can't let you leave," Yuy said. "Really? Shoot me then," she said, staying her guns and breezing out the door. Heero sat in shock. He had just failed the simplest job he had ever been given. * Her heels clicked on the pavement as she ran, stopping only to check the number she had dialed. Quatre's voice sounded from the other end of the line. "Hello?" "Quatre," she said before remembering her accent, "Quatre!" "Yes? Adrienne?" "Mm-hmm. Listen, I need you to do me a favor. Get to the last place anyone would ever expect you to be," she said before getting to the door of Towa's hotel and hanging up. As she climbed the steps she silently prayed that she would not see what she expected. * A gun clip kept the door from completely closing and locking. Trowa had done this before on other rendezvous', to let her in. Still, she pulled her gun and opened the door silently. It was certainly not what she expected. Rose petals scattered the floor. The television was playing horrible digital music. She could see an opened bottle of champagne and a pair of glasses. She chuckled. So all the sudden Trowa had become a classic romantic. He wasn't waiting for her here, though. All of this was waiting for him, a set up. Whoever was doing this was playing the two against each other. Trowa would come in, think Midii was making a move, and disarm himself. Then he would turn around and someone would put a bullet through his gut, just like Zechs. She took one of the empty flutes and poured herself champagne, sat on the bed, and waited. * Outside his room someone had stolen his thunder and put a gun clip in the door jam. He came in and an interesting sight met his eyes. Midii sat on the bed, which, along with the floor, was covered in flower petals. She wore her favorite fashion staple, a simple white button-down Oxford shirt, and a wool skirt. As soon as she saw him she went about getting him champagne. A three hundred bottle of freaking champagne! She kicked off her shoes and walked up to him, handed him the glass, and leaned into his ear. "I think you should know.we've been set up.and in about thirty seconds someone is going to come through that door and shoot the both of us," she whispered. He leaned over and kissed the side of her head. "Not if we have anything to do with it," he said, drawing his gun as she did the same. 


	6. Chapter 6

The two had long ago given up on catching the 'mastermind' who had turned everything completely upside-down. Over the course of half an hour she revealed every detail of the anonymous 'Apollo' tip-off and a rather austere account of the job. Trowa had been completely speechless ever since the words 'I slept with Quatre Winner' had left her mouth.  
  
She kept nodding off. Every so often she would get up and eat something, trying to stay awake. After her third run it became too much for him. "Midii!" he yelled. She turned around, startled. "Yes?" she asked timidly. He motioned her over. "You're driving me insane," he said more softly. She walked from the mini-kitchen to him, and he took the hand that didn't clutch a can of Coke. She opened her mouth to speak but the door being knocked down interrupted the moment.  
  
She almost dropped the gun. A dozen Preventors filed into the room, sniper rifles in hand. The stunned concierge stood out in the hall. Then she realized what had happened. Trowa had set her up. She stared at him as he tried to find words. Then she started to cry.  
  
He couldn't believe it. She thought he had planned all of this. As three took her from the room she neither resisted or took her eyes off him. Then she was gone. * She sat on the table, handcuffed, waiting for something to happen. She had been driven to the station in which she had been hours before; only she didn't sit in an oak-finished office. Once cuffed and printed, she knew it was all over. Now she sat on the cold metal table, awaiting a sentence. But she wouldn't cry. She was gong to spend a lifetime in a ten by eight because she had trusted Trowa. There was no way.it didn't fit. This was a web of lies and deception even she couldn't see through. Nothing made sense - the intricacy of the labyrinth she had entered voluntarily. This was the Spy Game - the New Alliance would claim she didn't exist, and she would never see a legitimate trial. She was now a civilian vigilante.  
  
Then she remembered Trowa's face.when she had cleaned his suite.He looked genuinely shocked. And Trowa was a mediocre actor. This was a double set- up. He was just as confused as her, completely uninformed. The raid had been beyond his knowledge or control. Yuy didn't do it - he didn't have the authority. Every suspect was clueless. For the first time she was utterly stunned. She set her jaw and stared at the cuffs. Then he walked in.  
  
It was a sad sight. Her hair was blonde again; she had been completely soaked in the rain. The auburn dye settled around her shoulders, staining the white button-down. The cuffs were biting into her wrists. She was visibly shaking. He couldn't stand it. Now it was time to end this all.  
  
She watched him out of the corner of her eye. It was Yuy. She waited to hear the gun cock, feel the cold steel of the barrel against her temple. It didn't happen. He walked directly in front of her, taking her hands. The handcuffs fell to the floor, clinking a bit too loudly. She looked up cautiously, then after stealing a quick glance, stared at the floor. She felt his hand swiftly jerk her chin parallel to the floor. He stared her straight in the eye.  
  
"Come on." "Monsieur?" she asked in a shaking voice. "I'm getting you out of here." "What?" "You heard me," he said. He was getting really tired of her really fast. " They printed me. My face has been all over the news. I won't be able to get out of space." "These?" he asked, holding up her print card. She nodded. He dropped it in the pitcher of ice water on the table next to her and watched as she stared at the jet-black ink swirl in the water. Now he needed to make a friend in the media. * He left her in the corner, where the camera couldn't catch her. Heero sprinted up to the fourteenth floor. Meeting the head of IN news wouldn't be an easy job. As he sat in the lobby, he saw his secretary walk by. This was his chance. He ran into an empty cubicle and hastily typed a mock press report. He breezed into the CEO's office and delivered the piece of print paper. The secretary gasped, then ran into the adjoining office, screaming "It's a conspiracy! Midii Une is innocent!" * She was sleeping soundly. Not much of a difference - she never spoke a word to him. As Yuy rounded the corner, she awoke. Keeping his eyes on the road, he reached over and stroked her shoulder.  
  
What was he doing? She watched as, his eyes frozen ahead of him. He was taking her to Trowa. She had dry clothes there. She went back to sleep, the only comfort she knew. 


	7. Chapter 7

Midii awoke from that feverish dream, the one that had haunted her for so long. She recognized her surroundings as the bed-and-bath of Trowa's suite at the Beau Rivage. She sat up and took her bag into the bathroom. As she stripped the damp clothes from her clammy skin, she couldn't remember the previous night's events. She stepped into the shower of hot water, watching the remnants of her dye job swirl down the drain. She felt alive again.  
  
"Trowa.shower," Heero alerted him as he sat down with another cup of coffee. It hadn't been long - Trowa had left and gotten another room after he took care of Midii, about four hours prior. He had been sitting in the same chair since he had brought the girl to Trowa - now he wanted to be done with her. His shoulder still hurt like Hell. Barton got up and went into the other room; Heero opted for the news - something about the near-feudal system in Serbia, a shooting in the states, the norm. Nothing about the Spy or the organization that had arrested an 'innocent' civilian was showing. They were running. Sitting back and muting the TV, he was just about to try to sleep when - "What the Hell did you think you were doing?" A few moments of silence followed. "Trowa." she said dryly, "I think I should be the one to be yelling this time. Jesus, I just lost a quarter million dollars! Not to mention I was the one who almost spent the night soaking wet in the interrogation room in the damn Preventors building!" He said something Heero couldn't make out and after that it was a pretty hushed conversation.  
  
If only he had known. He came into the bathroom and knocked on the shower stall. Instead of the door. It had to be Trowa.  
  
She sat curled up on the floor of the shower, letting the water run over her. Steam rose off her skin. She looked up at him and started talking, "I don't know what happened last night." "I'm not the only one then," he said, watching her. She really was gorgeous. "Why," he asked, "did you go.to Heero?" he asked. Her big gray eyes bored into his soul. "He was.the last cell." "What the Hell did you think you were doing?" * Apparently, despite the early-morning spat, the two had come back to terms. Whatever those were, Heero thought. People told him his on again- off again relationship with Relena was prone to peaks and valleys, but Trowa and Midii - for Trowa it was a 'don't ask, don't tell' deal for everyone who was curious. The fact that he wouldn't acknowledge her existence didn't give the couple much of a chance. He watched the two in the next room. They were both wet - apparently he thought yelling at her while they both were in an enclosed space was more forceful. She went about the room, collecting her belongings and arguing with Trowa. The conversation was petty - he didn't care about that. But it was really Midii he studied with his deep blue eyes. At one point she looked up at him, then broke eye contact and continued her hushed argument. She was so funny, half-insane like that. Fighting for them included yelling, but every so often they would realize they had an audience and take on a hushed tone. She started screaming something about Provence and turned from him to remove his oversized tee shirt that she had been wearing. At this point Trowa closed the door to the bedroom without his eyes leaving her. * Long after Yuy left, Midii and Trowa sat in the living room. Three hours of non-reminisce talking hadn't offered much. Trowa opened and closed his mouth as if trying to vocalize; Midii took his innuendo and sat on the couch next to him. He put his arm around her and they laced fingers. This is what I remember.Midii thought. She looked up at him, trying to read what elusive thoughts ran through his mind. He was glad she couldn't. And so it starts.the beginning of our end. *  
  
"Quatre.mail," Yasmine said, a tone of fear in her voice. Quatre took the manila envelope and wrapped his arm around her. He and his sister had always been close, considering they were the youngest. It was strange - he was so close to home yet so detached from the world he knew. Ever since Adrienne had told him to run he had been walking through fog. His hand shook as he walked to the guest room he was staying in. It was a tape. Along with a profile of Adrienne - only it wasn't her. Midii Une's picture and statistics stared at him. He was confused - so he turned to the tape. Still shaking, he pushed the video into the VCR. A black and white security camera viewed. She sat on the table, swinging her legs. "Miss Une." a man's voice said, "Are you going to tell the truth now?" "I already gave you everything." She replied dryly in a French brough. "Who gave you orders to destroy the mercenaries?" Treize Khushrenada stepped into the camera's view. Puffing on a cigar, he looked down on the girl. She was young - maybe fourteen. He was noticeably losing patience. "And the mobile suits? What about them?" he asked. She stared up at the camera. He continued. "Midii.you need to tell me now who you are working for." "I don't have to tell you anything. I didn't commit any crime," she said, her accent thickening. He took her arm and stabbed the cigar into the flesh of her wrist. Quatre couldn't stand it - her screams. Then he realized - she was a spy. Adrienne, Midii, whoever she was, had been leading him in circles for the past week. And now someone knew about them. Someone knew where he was. * He knew who was behind all of this - the whole espionage trap involving Midii. It was the only one who could really be jeopardized by the old Alliance - Mariemaia. The entire force - headed up by Dekim Barton - was threatened from old charges prior to the Eve Wars. Annihilating Midii Une, a colonel in the Alliance, would keep up the pure façade of the Force. It was the only rational answer. The preventors had received orders no one had authorized, the Alliance was very happy to have Une, and the old ESUN had no complaints about her. Heero sat in his office, absentmindedly playing Solitaire - and losing. He had already called Trowa - apparently he and Midii were once again not speaking. She had said there was nothing left to talk about. So went their story. His computer beeped. E-mail appeared. The subject line: Apollo. He was truly worried now. Blueprints labeled 'Apollo' appeared. Blueprints of a mobile suit. 


End file.
